


Sunkissed

by sh_wright890



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: "they finally got to the beach", Fluff, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Heterochromia, Kissing, M/M, No Angst, Psychic!Marco, dont worry im surprised too, like at all, lmao please dont hurt me, mentions of other religions, movie date
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 15:43:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13080090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sh_wright890/pseuds/sh_wright890
Summary: Who knew I'd end up going on a date with a psychic?





	Sunkissed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smilingKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilingKat/gifts).



> MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS!!!
> 
> I'd like to apologize because I quite literally didn't have any time this year because of school, but! I will definitely make a second part, I promise. Until then, enjoy some fluff and setup for a real plot ^.^

“No fucking way, Eren,” I groaned, looking closer at what he had punched into his GPS. “I’m going with you to see some bogus _psychic_?”

Turning on his blinker, he rolled his eyes. “Don’t be such a whiny bitch. You said you’d go anywhere I wanted to go if you lost this bet.” He looked pointedly at me. “And you lost.”

I heaved a dramatic sigh and settled back into my seat. Last weekend, we were all drinking down on the shore when I challenged Eren to a race. Who the fuck knows why I did it, but he must not have been as drunk as I originally thought because the next thing I knew, I was face down in the sand, and he was hollering victoriously at our makeshift finish line.

The ocean glittered in the sunlight, and a sense of bitterness filled me for a brief moment. Who cares if Eren’s my friend? I could be in the ocean riding the waves _right now_.

Moments later, the feeling passed, and I closed my eyes. Eren had been my friend for as long as I could remember. Sure, it’d been more of a rivalry throughout school, but I couldn’t recall a time he hadn’t had my back when the going got rough. If he wanted me to come with him to witness this bullshit so bad, I could suffer.

“Why do you wanna see this freak?” I asked.

“He’s not a freak, Jean, he’s the real deal. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Yeah, yeah. Why do you wanna see him?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Thought it’d be something cool. Different. What if there really was somebody who can tell the future?” His bright, green eyes met mine for a moment before they returned to the road. “Wouldn’t it be amazing to be able to meet somebody who has a small glimpse at the Big Picture?”

“I guess.” I shifted in my seat. “Haven’t really thought about it, to be honest.”

“It’s cause you’re too simplistic.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Not bad. Just like some old guy waiting to die or something else equally lame.”

I shoved his shoulder. “Shut up, you dumb bitch.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Not _your_ bitch.”

“You fucking wish.”

* * *

It turned out the psychic wasn’t too far away from home. The long part was trying to find parking since it was so conveniently located near the boardwalk, and it was June. Eventually, Eren was able to cut somebody off and squeeze into a parking spot located about four blocks away from the place.

There was a breeze coming off the ocean, and the smell of salt, cotton candy, and popcorn came with it. It wasn’t terribly muggy out yet, and the sun kept my skin pleasantly warm. I could feel my hair being tossed around by the wind as if I were being greeted by an old friend.

Fuck me. I loved being home.

I was between my third and my final year of college for my Bachelor’s degree. Every summer, I came home to live with my mom and work in order to have a chance at paying off some of that good ol’ student debt. So far, it didn’t look like I was even putting a dent in it.

“This is it,” Eren said, stopping in front of me and interrupting my thoughts.

We both looked at the front of the shop. It was nothing special, really. The brick had been recently covered in a fresh layer of sea foam green paint, and the door was a light-stained wood with a slightly-rusting iron handle. When Eren opened said door, a bell tingled from above it.

The inside was much different from the outside. While the outside looked like it fit the seaside theme, the inside was like stepping into another world. Brick was still visible, but only some of it was covered in paint as if they got bored partway through and kept starting in different spots before giving up altogether. It was tasteful, though, somehow.

Shelves lined the walls and stood in rows along the room from the front to the back. Greek pottery sat on top of some of them alongside candles, seashells, and other artifacts. I was sure the store had some sort of order to it, but I was so overwhelmed by it all--not to mention the strange feeling I was getting from the place.

A man sat at a counter to our left, and he looked up when we entered. “Welcome!” he chirped with a friendly smile. His blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he looked to be about my age. “Is there anything I can help you find?”

“Yeah, we’re here to see Apollo,” Eren told him.

“Seriously?” I asked. “His name is Apollo?”

“That’s only his professional name,” the blond kid said, getting down from his stool and coming around the counter. Wow, he was short.

“Like on _Rocky_?” I asked.

A snort came from behind me, and I turned around to see another guy leaning against one of the wooden shelves with his arms crossed. He was a bit taller than me with dark hair that curled at the ends and a smattering of freckles over every inch of skin I could see. His eyes were brown, but one of them was partially blue.

“Kind of,” he said.

“And you are…?”

He bit his lip, and wow, I knew I liked guys but _damn_. “Apollo.”

“That’s kind of a shitty name if you ask me. You’re just asking for some impossible standards to be placed on you.”

“Jean!” Eren hissed, elbowing me in the ribs.

Apollo shook his head and stood up straight, but he looked amused, thankfully. “And you must be Eren, right?”

“Yeah. I know I’m a bit early. We can wait.”

Apollo’s eyes looked him up and down, and I couldn’t quite place the look on his face. It wasn’t quite right. “No, it’s alright. My last customer left already.” He nodded to the back and gestured with a hand. “We can get started right now.”

I looked between both of them. “I’ll, uh, just stay here.”

As they headed back, Eren shot me a pointed look. “Try not to break anything.”

I rolled my eyes and waved him off, not dignifying him with a response.

With a small sigh, I crouched down in front of one of the shelves that was filled with a bunch of rocks and picked one up. It was white with black and gray flecks in it. Three of the sides met at a right angle, but it was tumbled and smooth. When the light caught it the right way, a rainbow pattern appeared.

“Moonstone,” I said aloud, reading the little card jammed into the bowl I got it from.

The kid came to stand next to me. “Good stone. White moonstones are good for emotional balance in men and activating kundalini energy in women. They’re mostly used to discover the self and bring the long-forgotten parts forward, though. All of them, I mean. Not just white ones.”

“Does it actually work?” I asked him skeptically.

He gave me a serious look. “I promise you it will. If you’re somebody that thinks it’s the placebo effect, keep a stone on your person for a whole month and look up what it means at the end of that month. You’ll notice changes in all those areas.”

Well, he was obviously convinced that these stupid things worked, and I wasn’t about to burst his bubble. Still holding onto it, I picked up another one called aquamarine. “Like the birthstone?”

He bent over to see which one I’d picked up and smiled. “Yes, like the birthstone. They’re related to the moon just like the moonstone, but they also are related to the things in the heavens since Heaven is reflected on the surface of the water. Aquamarines were considered good luck talisman between sailors, and they were originally thought to be the treasure of mermaids.”

I nodded. “Cool. What does it do?”

“It’s calming to the person that’s holding it since it’s related to the sea. It can help with trusting more and letting things go. Since it’s a stone of reflections, it’s good for meditating, and it can help one look into the deepest, darkest part of one’s soul and face themselves.”

Pins and needles started to buzz in my feet, so I sat down and crossed my legs under me. “How morbid.”

He shrugged lightly. “Only if you interpret it that way.”

“Well, I do.” I picked up another one that was a milky white color. The texture was definitely not what I expected. It wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t smooth, and it was soft enough for me to scratch it with my thumbnail. “What does Selenite do?”

“Selenite is named after the Greek goddess of the moon Selene. It protects from outward forces and dispels negative energy. It removes energy blocks.” He bit his lip in thought. “It’s also good for meditation work with the purpose of seeing past lives.”

I turned it over in my hands. Who knew if I believed in past lives or not. I knew I believed in something, but I still had no clue what.

“You know, you seem drawn to stones that have water as their element. What’s your zodiac sign?”

“I’m an Aries, but I’m majoring in marine biology if that makes any difference.”

He nodded. “Yes, it certainly does. Are you a local?”

It was my turn to nod. “My house is, like, twenty minutes away from here.”

“Oh, so you’ve grown up around the ocean.” He smiled good-naturedly. “It’s no surprise that locals are attracted to water elements. It’s in their nature, I suppose.”

“What about you? What’s your element? And, uh, what’s your name?”

The kid facepalmed. “Wow! I’m sorry!” He stuck his hand out. “My name’s Armin.”

I shook it. “Armin?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I’ve never had my name on a keychain.”

I couldn’t help but snort. The kid looked like a nerd, but he seemed honest and had some sort of personality. I liked him already.

“Anyway, I’m a Scorpio, so my sign is naturally water, but I find myself drawn more toward the air element.”

“Is that normal? To be drawn to other elements even though your zodiac is totally different?”

Armin chewed on his lip again in thought. “I suppose. Most people look at the zodiac sign they were born under but don’t consider their whole astrology chart. There’s twelve different houses for the different zodiacs, and each encompass a different part of a person’s life. I’ve got some books on astrology if you’d like to read up on it. I haven’t gotten into that yet.” He shot me an apologetic look.

“Uh, no. I’m good. Thanks, though.”

So we spent the rest of the time talking about the multicolored stones sitting on the shelves. I’d pick one up, and he’d tell me what it was supposed to help with. As much as I thought the whole thing was complete bullshit in order to get people to buy stuff, I kept my feelings contained. Armin was very knowledgeable, and he obviously believed in what he was saying.

There were a few things I didn’t like to bring up with people--religion and politics--and this fell into one of those categories, so I kept my opinions to myself.

It was about half an hour later when Eren and the other guy emerged from the back. No other customers had appeared while they were gone.

“How’d it go?” I asked Eren.

He grinned and winked at me. “Can’t tell you or I’ll have to kill you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. You ready to go?”

“Yep.”

Standing, I turned a moonstone, aquamarine, and clear quartz over in my palms. Of course, I was still extremely skeptical, and the prices of these rocks certainly weren’t helping much, but Armin could be very convincing. It wasn’t even him trying to get me to buy anything. In fact, he suggested that I do more research myself before deciding to get anything. That plus his enthusiasm, expansive knowledge on the topic, and the fact that I wanted to see for myself convinced me to buy them.

“Lemme get these real quick.”

Eren raised his brows mockingly. “Thought you didn’t believe in all that otherworldly bullshit?”

I didn’t dignify him with a response, but I hoped my glare caused him to break out into a sweat at the very least.

Apollo was the one who actually rung me up. He squinted at me and held up a finger after he handed me my change back. “Wait here.”

He stepped out from behind the counter and looked at the collection of stones I spent the better part of our visit looking at. When he found what he was looking for, he went, “Ah!” and plucked something out of a glass sitting on the top shelf. Coming back to the counter, he dropped the mystery stone and the three I was getting into a small bag with a drawstring.

“Uh.”

“That one’s on me.” His smile felt like the morning sun. “I have a feeling you’ll like it.”

“How could you possibly know that? For all you know, I could hate it.”

He scribbled something onto a pad of paper and tore it off, folding it and slipping it into the bag. “You won’t.”

“Don’t sound so sure about yourself or anything,” I muttered.

Apollo laughed and handed me the pouch. “Have a good day, Jean.” The way he pronounced my name was perfect, and I had a feeling he knew French.

“You about ready, princess?” Eren demanded, arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I waved a hand in the air and left the shop.

He followed closely behind. “ _Dude._ He was flirting with you so hard.”

“Yeah right. He probably gives rocks to all his first-time customers. Keeps them coming back in the hopes of getting more.”

He moved in front of me and walked backward. “Did you not see the way he looked at you? I’ll bet you he just gave you his number.”

“Eren, you’re reading into this too much.” I might’ve found him hot, but that didn’t mean I had to get my hopes up about him liking me too.

He gave me a look and turned around. While he wasn’t looking, I opened the small bag and pulled out the slip of paper. _Call me Marco,_ it said in smooth cursive. My fingers brushed over ridges on the back from him pressing down on the pen so hard. _See you tomorrow._

“What the fuck?” I said quietly to myself, squinting and rereading it. Yeah, he said he was psychic and all, but nobody could possibly be able to find a person in a densely populated area without any hints besides me telling Armin I lived twenty minutes away. Unless…

“Did you tell him where we live?”

He stepped off the curb right in front of his car and opened the door. “Yeah, it came up in conversation. Why?”

We both got in the car, and I waved the paper in front of his face. “Because of this, idiot. He said he’d see me tomorrow, whatever that means.”

When he tried to grab the paper, I jerked my hand back. Pursing his lips, he started the car and rolled down the windows. It was still cool enough to leave the AC off. “I literally just told you he was hitting on you.”

“He _isn’t_ ,” I insisted. “He doesn’t even know me. I don’t even know _him_.”

“That’s what talking is for, genius.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna be saying that when he takes me to the basement of his shop and sacrifices me.”

Eren pulled out onto the street and started home. “Why are you freaking out so much?”

“Because he said he’d find me. You don’t find that at all suspicious or creepy?”

“I highly doubt that was his intention, but fine, I’ll bite. Sure, I’d normally find that weird, but he seemed really nice, and he _knew_ things that I didn’t tell him about. Some serious personal things like when Dad left. If he finds you, it’ll be because he’s just that good.”

I huffed and sank down in my seat. Eren was almost never reasonable, and I hated that he was actually using his pea-sized brain for once. It made me look paranoid. “Fine. Whatever.”

Once we were on the highway and away from the slowly-growing crowd of people headed to the beach, Eren went, “Maybe this is the beginning of a love story like some sort of shitty fanfiction.”

I begrudgingly agreed with him.

* * *

The summer before my senior year of high school, I started working at a local coffee shop called Braus’s Beans. The parents of a friend of mine owned it, and I know for a fact they almost named it Sasha’s like Wendy’s but for coffee. Every time I bring it up, Sasha threatens to have me fired.

Anyway, I decided that I needed something to do to make my own cash so I wasn’t constantly mooching off my mom. I always thought it would be kinda cool to make espresso and shit, so I applied and got the job. And at nine bucks an hour with flexible shifts, it was like a dream. Even learning how to steam milk, make espresso shots, memorizing which size cups got how many shots and pumps of syrup, and running a register wasn’t that hard to do. Once I got the hang of it, talking to customers and making drinks was a second nature.

When I had to go to college, Mr. and Mrs. Braus promised me a job whenever I was home, and I took them up on their offer.

Sasha and I were working together for the morning and part of the afternoon. She’d gotten there at nine to take over for her dad, and I got there at ten. The first thing I did was down a double shot of espresso, and Sasha snorted when I made a face.

“Why do you torture yourself like that?”

I tossed the shot glasses into the sink. “The more caffeine I take, the better I am at talking to people.”

She seemed to consider this for a moment before she nodded. “That’s fair.”

We worked together like a well-oiled machine. Out of everybody I’d worked with at the cafe, I’d been around her the most. She usually took the register since I was faster at drinks, and my anxiety made it difficult for me to make small talk with the customers. The seemed to like her bubbly personality better anyway.

Sometime around eleven, we got a small rush. Rushes were good because it meant more customers which equated to more tips and less boredom, but they were bad because people had this bad habit of ordering six drinks for their coworkers.

I’d finished up the last drink--a cold tea with lemonade and peach slices in it--when it happened. As I called out the name of the drink, I looked up at the person waiting patiently for it, and it was none other than Marco.

I was so startled that I almost dropped the cup. “How did you find me?” I asked, barely refraining from dropping the f-bomb loud enough for the kids still in the cafe to hear me.

He tapped his temple. “I got a feeling.”

“A feeling,” I parroted.

“Mm hm. I thought about you and got a coffee shop vibe. Eren already told me where you guys were from, so I just had to drive around until one of them stood out to me.”

Setting the drink down on the counter, I gaped in his direction. “Why?”

He reached forward and slid it toward him, sticking a straw in the top. “Why what?”

“Why did you find me?”

As he stirred the tea with his straw, he gave a half shrug. “Another feeling. I got a lot of feelings from you, actually.”

My jaw dropped further. “Was that an innuendo?”

The sly way he grinned and sipped his drink was all the answer I needed.

Fortunately--unfortunately?--Sasha noticed my dazed state. “Jean? Who’s this?”

Marco smiled charmingly at her and held out a hand. “I’m Marco. Eren introduced us.”

She shook his hand. “Did he?” I didn’t miss the way she looked at me with raised eyebrows. “I think he mentioned you. You’re the psychic, right?”

“That I am.”

“Cool! How does that work? Do you have, like, voices in your head or something?”

“Not quite. They’re more like impressions. Feelings that I have to interpret. I can demonstrate if you’d like me to?”

She nodded vigorously. “Yes, please.”

He held his hand out again but to me this time. I looked at it suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Demonstrating. It works better if I have direct contact with the person I’m reading.”

I squinted. “Why are you reading me and not her?”

Sasha groaned. “Oh my god, Jean. Quit being a little baby and grab his hand.”

With a huff, I glared at her and firmly grasped his hand in mine as if we were shaking hands. His skin was soft, and his grip was firm and steady. I glanced in his direction and found him staring right at me without blinking, a faraway look in his eyes.

“Your front, right pocket,” he said finally. “The stones. They’re there, and so are your keys. Your other pocket has loose change.” He blinked a couple times and focused on me but didn’t let go of my hand.

Sasha looked expectantly at me. “Well?”

“He’s right,” I told her reluctantly.

She looked absolutely delighted. “That’s awesome!”

For the first time, he looked a bit bashful. “Thanks.”

“Were you born with it?”

He nodded. “Yep.”

She began to bombard him with a billion other questions, and he answered her patiently. I tuned them out and watched him. I still didn’t know what to make of him. He seemed nice enough, and as far as I could tell, he liked me at least a little. Still, this whole thing confused me. I’d never had anybody try so hard to get my attention.

Finally, Sasha ran out of questions, and he used the opportunity to escape. He tipped his glass at me. “I’ll call you later, Jean.” And he winked at me.

“You don’t have my number,” I called out after him, half smug and half dumbfounded from his general demeanor.

He paused long enough to look right at me and rattle off a string of numbers that just so happened to be my phone number, and then he was gone.

“How the f--” I began, but Sasha threw her hand over my mouth before the profanity could escape. A couple parents turned around, but Sasha and I paid them no mind. Instead, we looked at each other with wide eyes.

When she was sure I wasn’t going to embarrass myself, she took her hand off my mouth. “How did he do that?” I hissed.

She shrugged and shook her head in awe. “He’s the real deal, man.”

* * *

Sure enough, I got a text from him the next morning.

**From: XXX-XXX-XXXX**

**Good morning!!! (It’s Marco btw.)**

I added him to my contacts against my better judgment.

**To: Stalker**

**How the fuck did you get my number**

**From: Stalker**

**I’m psychic duh**

**To: Stalker**

**I’m literally not buying that. How did you do it?**

**From: Stalker**

**Ok ok you got me. I looked you up in the phonebook**

**To: Stalker**

**Kinda hard to do when you don’t know somebody’s last name**

I decided to ignore the fact that he used a phonebook. Who even still owned those things anymore? That’s what Google was for.

**From: Stalker**

**That’s the psychic part**

**Basically I skimmed the pages until I got to one that stood out to me**

**And there’s like nobody else around here named Jean so…**

**Obviously the only Jean on it was you**

**To: Stalker**

**Why are you even talking to me? Are you like wanting to get laid or something lol**

**From: Stalker**

**Is it so hard to believe that I thought you were interesting as a person?**

I paused when I read that, thumbs hovering over the touchscreen. How was I supposed to respond to that? Sarcasm. That always worked.

**To: Stalker**

**A little bit yeah**

**From: Stalker**

**Well I do. I’ve never seen anybody with hair like that before.**

**Also your contact name for me is a bit rude**

**To: Stalker**

**It’s called fashion Brenda look it up and you don’t even know what your contact name is**

**From: Stalker**

**Stalker…… I’m hurt**

**You still don’t believe in my abilities do you**

**To: Stalker**

**Not really no**

**From: Marco/Apollo/Stalker**

**I predict you’ll go out with me on Friday night to see a movie**

**To: Marco/Apollo/Stalker**

**We’ll see**

**To: Marco/Apollo/Stalker**

**Great! See you then! ;)**

**Marco works just fine as my contact name btw Apollo is just my work name**

**To: Marco/Apollo/Stalker**

**Dude if you keep complaining I’m definitely not going out with you**

**From: Marco/Apollo/Stalker**

**Ok ok**

* * *

Not gonna lie, our little conversation had me intrigued, so I did say yes to going out with him on Friday night. The sheer amount of emojis he sent as a reply made me consider changing my mind, though.

Sasha was completely over the moon that I was dating a magician, and I certainly wasn’t spared the jokes about what kind of magic tricks he could pull on me--wink, wink. I had to keep reminding her that he wasn’t a magician, he was a psychic, and then I had to remind myself that people like that didn’t even exist in real life. She only laughed at the way I contradicted myself. Sometimes, I had no idea why I was friends with her.

Despite the fact that Marco texted me, he also showed up at Braus’s Beans for something to drink every day. He always said that he just liked the atmosphere, but Connie, my friend since grade school and Sasha’s boyfriend, claims that Marco has leaned against the counter and stared at my ass on more than one occasion. I’ve never caught him doing it. He always gave me a cheeky smile when I handed him his drink.

Another good thing? He always tipped well. Like five dollars per barista. Part of me felt guilty for receiving that much from a customer when I was just doing my job, but the other part of me wasn’t like that at all. If they were willing to give a worker that much of a tip, then it would be ungrateful to give it back, wouldn’t it?

On more than one occasion I wondered if Marco was looking to be a sugar daddy. I wasn’t above sucking a dick for some cash, and those student loans weren’t gonna pay themselves.

Friday afternoon was very balmy, and the sun was shining. Eren was at my place watching me stew over what I was gonna wear in less than an hour. Did he have a certain color? Could he possibly already know what I was going to wear? Wait, what? No, that was impossible. Besides, I shouldn’t even care about it that much!

Eren sat up from where he was laying on my bed and leaned against the headboard. The book he was reading got closed and set on my nightstand. “Your brain is going to be absolute mush by the time he gets here if you keep thinking so hard.”

“Ha, ha,” I replied absently. White or black t-shirt?

“Guys don’t like guys that have mush for brains.”

“You’re shit out of luck then.”

He snorted. “I’m trying to be _nice_. Take a chill pill.”

I grabbed a bluish-gray shirt that didn’t wash me out and sat down on the edge of the bed with a huff. “Why did I even let you come over?”

“Because you love me and I remind you not to let your brain get all mushy?”

Pulling the shirt over my head, I raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Something tells me that isn’t it.”

The bed bounced as he moved to sit next to me. “Look, will it help if I give you some advice?”

I squinted. “It depends.”

He continued as if I hadn’t low-key insulted him again. “So this Marco guy is one of those types that has probably had his heart broken a long time ago.”

“Are you fucking serious.”

“No! You can tell by looking at him. He looks at you like all wistful and hopeful but also like he’s happy just getting to see you.”

“ _You_ look at me like that.”

He opened his mouth to say something, blushed, and closed it again. “I do not,” he replied finally.

I seriously hoped it was my imagination that his voice cracked a bit at the end because being Eren’s crush--especially when we were such close friends--was probably the worst idea ever. Actually, it was more like the punchline of a bad joke.

“Anyway,” he continued. “You shouldn’t be worrying about what you're wearing. Dazzle him with your charming personality.”

“I actually hate you. I hope you know that.”

He grinned and slapped my back before standing and popping his back. “Yep! Now hurry up, or you’re gonna be late.”

* * *

Marco knocked at the door exactly at exactly five-thirty even though I watched him pace outside my house for about fifteen minutes before that. Part of me found that endearing, but the other part was just relieved that he was as nervous as I was.

“Hi,” I said when I opened the door.

His smile turned from nervous-slash-constipated to a genuine one. “Hey! You ready?”

I closed and locked the door behind me. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I smiled back at him. He _was_ really cute. “Yeah. What movie?”

Marco looked at his palm. The words were smudged. “ _Frost Prize_.”

“You mean _Trost Prince?_ ”

He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, that.”

My facepalm was totally involuntary. “I can’t believe I’m about to go out on a date with a _meme_.” We started walking.

“What do you mean?” he asked, laughing.

I shook my head. “Nevermind.”

“Hey, I just wanted our first date to be meme-ingful.”

“Oh my _god_.” I groaned but couldn’t help laughing at his corny pun.

When he caught my hand, I squeezed it and held on as we walked to the movie theater.

* * *

There were two movie theaters in town. The one that was super popular was located downtown in the tourist area. It was really clean and had lots of food options, but the prices were fucking outrageous.

The other one was located further inland, away from the tourist area. This one was haunted by locals for the most part. Sure, there weren’t as many types of candy, but the staff was nice, and it was only three bucks for a ticket.

My friend Connie also worked at that one which was good and bad. Good because he often slipped me a ticket for free with his discount. Bad because…

“Hey, Je--oh! When were you gonna tell me you were going on a date with that hot psychic you keep telling me about?”

Yeah. Thanks. Best wingman ever, I promise.

“Jesus Christ, Con, keep it down!”

Marco looked amused, but he must’ve been raised to have manners even when he was talking to an absolute baboon because he held his hand out to shake. “I’m Marco. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve seen you at Braus’s before, right?”

Connie took his hand and shook it. “Yeah. Sasha’s my girl, and Jean is my man.” If I’d been standing next to him, he would’ve elbowed me.

“Could you be any more embarrassing?” I muttered under my breath.

He waved a hand. “Don’t be such a downer. I only want to make sure my Jeany boy is dating boys that meet Daddy Connie’s standards.”

Marco rubbed a hand over his mouth as if to keep himself from smiling.

I positively wanted to die. “If you call yourself daddy again, I’m gonna have to have a serious talk with Sasha.”

Connie laughed. “Go ahead. She calls me daddy whenever I bring chocolate home for her.”

Marco actually busted out laughing after that. Blushing hard, I dug in my pocket and slapped a ten down. “Just get us some tickets and shut up.”

Ten minutes later, we were sitting in the movie theater but not after having to physically pry Connie off Marco. I literally had no idea why I was still friends with him. It wasn’t like he was doing me any favors by calling himself daddy in front of somebody I hadn’t even had a full date with yet.

Between us was a large bucket of popcorn that we were both eating by the handful. As soon as Marco asked the person working behind the counter for a ton of extra butter, I knew it was a match made in heaven.

We made small talk, but it wasn’t the forced kind. In fact, talking to him was natural. He was funny and extremely polite, and he didn’t try to pull any of his psychic mumbo-jumbo on me. Not that I believed him. I was sure he had Eren’s number, and he was asking him everything he wanted to know.

About halfway through the movie, we both looked at each other and decided to leave. The plot was boring anyway.

Luckily for me, Connie wasn’t in the entrance when we left.

By the time we got to the boardwalk, the sun was beginning to set, and all the lights were turning on. It was dumb, but even now seeing all the bright colors made me excited. I said so to Marco, and he nudged my side. “It isn’t dumb.”

I smiled sheepishly at him, not knowing why I told him that. He didn’t seem to think anything was weird if the way he tentatively took my hand again was any indication.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“A little,” I admitted. “But I can pay for it myself.”

Without warning, he stepped in front of me and stopped with his arms crossed over his chest. I almost ran into him. “What?” I asked.

“Excuse you, Jean Kirschtein, but I invited you on a date, and you have already paid for our tickets. I _must_ pay for dinner.”

I squinted at him, but he only raised his eyebrows as a challenge. Finally, I sighed. “Okay, okay. Whatever. But you can’t complain if I get something extra expensive.”

He laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

We both knew I wouldn’t try to get something expensive.

Because I was an adult, the first thing I got was cotton candy. Marco seemed amused but also unimpressed, so I got a corn dog to go along with it. He got two pieces of pizza and a big lemonade for us to share. Not just normal lemonade either. The kind that’s, like, only 2% lemon juice and 98% sugar.

When I suggested that we get some tickets and ride the Ferris wheel, he let me pay for my own only if he paid for his too. That was totally fine with me, and soon enough, we were riding to the top and watching the waves crash against the shore. Kids and parents were running all over like teeny tiny ants, and I watched them for awhile.

“So you like to swim?”

I looked over at him. “Yeah. I was on the swim team during high school. Why?”

He shrugged. “You look like a swimmer. Plus, you’ve been staring at that water like you’re about to jump into it.”

“I’m starting to think you’re not a psychic--you’re just good at reading people.”

“Well, when you’ve lived for several millennia you learn to read people fairly easily.”

“You aren’t as funny as you think,” I replied with a teasing elbow to his side.

He smiled again. Did he ever stop smiling? “Wasn’t joking.”

“Yeah, okay, sure. Anyway, I’ve just always loved the water. My mom said my dad was a sailor, and he was lost at sea before I was born.” I looked back over the waves that rolled in its own interpretation of dancing. “You’d think that would’ve made me afraid of the water, but I don’t know. When I was a kid, I swore I thought I saw his, like, ghost or something, keeping me from being pulled into the undertow.”

When I looked over, he had a curious expression on his face. “Maybe it _was_ him. When was the last time you saw him?”

“Uh, probably when I was in grade school.”

He nodded to himself. “He could be watching from a distance, that is, if he’s still around. He could’ve moved on by now.”

The Ferris wheel was beginning to lower us down, stopping every so often to trade passengers. “Probably. Who knows?”

Marco nudged my shoulder. “I think I know somebody that can help. I’m not very familiar with contacting the dead, but I have a friend who’s better at it than I am.”

I blinked at him. “You’d do that?”

“Yeah, of course. He owes me a favor anyway.”

“Thank you,” I all but stammered, surprised that somebody I met only a week ago was offering to help connect me with my possibly-dead father.

That’s never a sentence I thought I’d think.

Once we got off the Ferris wheel, we abled through the crowds of people and played whatever games struck our fancy. He beat me horribly at skee ball, but I got him back when we played some sort of dancing game. Part of me suspected he let me beat him.

“Okay,” I said as we were walking again, a big, stuffed fish in my arms that he won and gave to me. “So you’re a psychic, and you can read people as if they were some sort of Facebook feed. What else can you do?”

He licked his ice cream cone. It was chocolate chip cookie dough, and I noticed that the chocolate chips kinda matched his freckles. “Hmm.” He frowned as some ice cream dripped down his hand, and I laughed at him. “I’m good at archery, poetry, and I can play almost every musical instrument. All that stuff was super popular when I was younger,” he explained. “I also thought I was going to be a doctor at one point, but I decided to focus on my gift of prophecy.”

“Wow,” I said, nodding. “A jack of all trades. Can you play the ukulele?”

“Of _course_. What kind of monster do you think I am?”

I snorted loudly. “Okay, okay. Do you write your own music?”

“Sometimes, but I always sell it. Who do you think gave David Guetta the idea to write ‘Sexy Bitch’?”

“Oh my god, you did not.”

“I’m hurt you don’t believe me.”

“I’m sure you are.”

We maintained eye contact until I shook my head and looked away. I couldn’t get the cheesy grin he had on out of my head.

Shortly after that, I told him--with reluctance I might add--that I had to get home because I had to work in the morning. Side by side, we walked back to my house. The sun was almost completely gone by the time we got there, and I was glad I left the porch light on.

Once we said our slightly-awkward goodbyes, he got in his car, and I started up the steps. When I glanced back, he was watching me with a small smile. I bit my lip and on an impulse, I ran back down the steps, leaning into his open window. We looked at each other for a moment, and I kissed him.

It was so freaking cliche, but the moment I kissed him I had the fleeting thought that it was like kissing the sun: warm, bright, and _good_.

His fingers were gently pressed to the side of my face, and I didn’t want to part from him and the way he still tasted like chocolate chip cookie dough. His lips were stupidly soft and gave easily beneath mine. He made a small noise when my teeth brushed his lower lip, and I almost died.

Blushing furiously, I pulled back and pecked the corner of his mouth one more time before I bounded up the stairs and went inside. I peeked through the window to see that he was still there, smiling like an idiot and touching his lower lip with his fingers. After he rolled all the windows down, he drove off, but I could hear his joyful shout from inside.

* * *

Later that night, I found myself walking along the beach. The stars were shining brightly above me, and the ocean danced around my ankles. Occasionally, a runner or somebody walking their dog would pass by me, but other than that, I was alone. It must’ve been almost midnight, but I couldn’t sleep. This wasn’t unnatural for me, but I found that going down to the ocean helped relax me.

I dug my toes in the sand and bent down to pick up seashells that caught my eye in the moonlight. The further into the water I went, the more welcomed and calm I felt. For as long as I could remember, the water called to me. I’d never told anybody, not even my friends, about how much I longed to be in the water. Maybe it was in my blood. My father _did_ live for the ocean, from what Mom told me.

With a sigh, I sat down and pulled my legs under me. The water tugged at me as if to pull me in. I wasn’t scared--I was half tempted to let the ocean pull me into its embrace.

Not now, though.

Letting my hand hover the water, I imagined it rising up to hit my palm like some sort of eager pet, and I nearly had a heart attack when it actually lifted up and wrapped around my hand and arm.

Panicked, I jumped to my feet, and it fell back down, but I couldn’t stop staring at it. When I got over my shock, I sprinted toward my car. As soon as I got in, I scooped my phone off the passenger seat and called Eren.

“What?” he grumbled when he answered.

I stared at my palm. “Eren, you are never going to believe what just happened.”


End file.
